I’m glad that you can’t see me darling,
I’m glad you didn’t write or call.
You would have seen how much I’m changing;
I’m just not coping well at all.
Sorry if I hurt you darling,
but that’s the way the dice fall;
in a spin with the devil driving,
I’m just not coping well at all.
They tell me life begins at forty;
well, if that’s true, I hope time crawls,
for on the downward slide from thirty,
I’m just not coping well at all.
Dreams all gone and lovers leaving,
battles lost beyond recall,
no heroes left I can believe in;
I’m just not coping well at all.
Look at my life: it’s turning away from me,
and I’ve not become the man that I once hoped I’d be.
Look at my life: it’s just an empty sham,
all that trouble and pain just to be what I am.
The house is quiet since you left me,
there’s no love within its walls;
only the lonesome sound of empty
into the silence falls.
Other men can lose their lovers,
bounce back like a rubber ball;
I’m just not like those others,
I’m just not coping well at all.
Look at my life: it’s turning away from me,
and I’ve not become the man that I once hoped I’d be.
Look at my life: it’s just an empty sham,
all that trouble and pain just to be what I am.
The house is quiet since you left me,
there’s no love within its walls;
only the lonesome sound of empty
into the silence falls.
Other men can lose their lovers,
bounce back like a rubber ball;
I’m just not like those others,
I’m just not coping well at all.
I’m just not like those others,
I’m just not coping well at all.